


Destiny, Love, and All the Other Made Up Things

by 514a



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang is Very Inquisitive, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Drama, Badass Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Aang/Katara, Minor Sokka/Suki, Minor Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Miscommunication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Katara (Avatar), Slow Burn, Sokka Overthinks A Lot, Zuko’s Giant Gay Character Progression TM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/514a/pseuds/514a
Summary: All Sokka wanted to do was help Aang end the 100 year war, help him master the elements and blah blah blah, good samaritan stuff. What he didn’t want, however, was to constantly deal with Prince Zuko, heir to the Fire throne, grade A jackass. And yet....
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	1. One

_Cold, wet, unforgiving._ That’s how Hakoda, his father, once described the South Pole. Sokka never understood it. “You will when you’re older. That’s the thing about youth, it comes hand in hand with naivety.” Sokka had frowned back then and he is frowning now. Sokka loves the South Pole, it was home, in more ways than one. He loved penguin sledding. It was something the kids always went to do, something that always gave him the thrill he craved, he loved feeling the frigid air nip at his skin, as contradicting as it sounded, it always made him feel warm on the inside. He loved going fishing. Not for any conventional reasons though, he didn’t really care for waiting around for the fish to be caught on the hooks. No, he loved the conversations. He loved sitting on the boat, with his father and the other townspeople, chatting on about nothing and everything at once, as they drifted away into the cold seas. 

He loved building snowmen. Though, Katara was always better at it than him. She always ( _unfairly_ he might add) used her waterbending to help make her ice sculptures more gorgeous, however she never admitted to it and claimed that she was simply just more artistic than him. He never accepted that though of course, and that leads to the next thing he loved. He loved snowball fights. Snowball fights were always the absolute best. Katara was always affronted whenever Sokka inevitability started a snowball fight, but she would quickly fight back, dodging all the balls with a trained ease. 

She was a skilled opponent. Mostly because she always somehow got all the kids in the tribe on her side, and they would all flank Sokka together. He would always lose, but he would return back to his tent red cheeked and smiling.

He loved ice dodging. He was always entranced whenever he had the opportunity to watch someone partake in it. It was something he had always longed to do, something that he had looked forward to since he was a young boy. As he thought of this, he quickly pushed aside his hurt over the fact that he was unable to participate in this rite of passage with his father now gone. Regardless, he loved the South Pole, and he thought his father was wrong about what he said, he was never going to understand, even with his increasing age.

He sighed to himself. He was currently waiting on Katara and their new friend Aang to return back from their adventure. They had gone penguin sledding and during any other circumstances, he would’ve jumped at the chance to go. But, he knew about his responsibility to the tribe, and the threat of the Fire Nation was now more prominent than ever because Aang likely signaled them with that stupid flare when he and Katara decided to go on a misadventure on some old stupid boat a few hours prior. So, he couldn’t leave his tribe. Not until he knew they were safe.

“But it’s your birthday!” Katara had exclaimed, her wide eyes filled with confusion at Sokka’s rejection. 

Aang looked surprised at this interjection as well, “Birthday?” 

“It’s no big deal,” Sokka had stated. Katara frowned at that. She knew how he was. He always insisted that his birthday was the most important day of the year, and all the people in the South Tribe usually indulged him, it was the one day a year where they all would celebrate him, where he felt special. They would always have a celebration much to Sokka’s insistence, though it had been different since his dad left. He had turned fourteen that year. There was no celebration. He didn’t want one. It was probably the worst birthday he ever had. That’s why Katara forced everyone the next year to still hold the celebration, despite Sokka moping around because their father wasn’t there. Sokka is kinda thankful she did, it did beat brooding around over something he couldn’t change. And so, that’s how it was for the next few years. 

But not now. Now it was different, but even considering the fact that it was drastically different than it had ever been, Sokka still couldn’t find himself to agree with his father's sentiment. He didn’t reject Katara’s idea because of being old (he was old now, wasn’t he? He was turning 18 today, he _was_ an adult). He still loved all the things he did before. He thought no different. He was never naive. Maybe his father was the naive one. 

“You better show up to the celebration tonight, or I swear,” Katara said, her eyes blazing. He knew it came from a caring place, but she was scary like that. He held up his hands in defeat.

“I promise I will,” He assured with a nod to his sister, who still looked at him with slight concern in her expression. He added for her benefit, “Plus, I’m technically an adult tonight. Maybe Gran Gran will let me have a bottle of plum or something with dinner.”

Katara snorted at this, her concern dissipating rapidly, “Keep dreaming, Sokka. Don’t be dumb. Gran Gran would never.”

“Hey! Don’t speak to your elders like that!” He squawked in a fake affront, causing both Katara and Aang to chuckle.

“Am I invited to the celebration?” Aang asked, looking younger than his (one hundred and-) fifteen years he was. 

“I mean, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” Katara said, shooting a look over to Sokka. She knew he still didn’t trust Aang. I mean, why would he? They had met like what, three days ago and he was trapped in an iceberg for like, a hundred years? Oh, and yeah, he’s the damn Avatar. And he accidentally let out a signal that the Fire Nation might’ve picked up on that would lead them here - to his home. Nothing to distrust at all, right? Just a friendly, trusting, not at all mysterious last airbender on this planet. Right.

“Yes, of course you are,” He still told the boy. Because if Katara trusted him (and she did. She believed in him more than anything Sokka had ever seen her believe in), then who was he to oppose? Well, _openly_ oppose anyways. He would still have his silent doubts and suspicions.

“Let’s go sledding now before he changes his mind,” Katara said jokingly to the airbender, shooting a smile at Sokka before turning in the other direction.

“You wound me deep,” Sokka joked back but she was already walking away, Aang not even hesitating to begin following her. He was a lot like a lost puppy. 

“Happy Birthday!” Aang had yelled out as an afterthought, doing a weird salute thing that Sokka assumed was some air tribe tradition, before he smiled widely and ran after Katara.  
  


That had been five hours ago. Now it was nearing dusk and they still weren’t back. He began to worry about them, anxiety filling his body. What if the Fire Nation had got them? 

Some of his tribe weren’t as worried as Sokka, like Gran Gran who told him to quit worrying as she continued preparing sea squid soup for the entire tribe in celebration of his birthday, pointing the huge wood ladle at him as she spoke, causing some soup to be splashed on his parka. She didn’t even look apologetic about it. Most of the kids were also unconcerned, all of them preparing a giant campfire for a tradition they always had on birthdays where they would roast seal jerky and tell stories and sing songs and dance. Sokka admittedly didn’t feel like dancing tonight. 

At least a few of the older people actually agreed with Sokka, and were concerned about the Fire Nation threat. Some even kept watch around the perimeter. Like Byuota, who was an elderly man just shy of 80, who was once a world traveling warrior, and had seen firsthand the swift destruction of the Fire Nation. Then again, hadn’t they all? The Fire Nation had already almost decimated the entire Southern Water Tribe. Sokka felt sick thinking about it. He would not allow it to happen again. He _wouldn’t_ let it happen again. What happened to his mo-

He was able to stop his thoughts when he finally saw Aang and Katara, bounding toward the camp with wide grins on their faces. Aang was talking animatedly, using a bunch of hand motions while Katara laughed at whatever he said.

Sokka, for the first time in the past couple of days, allowed himself to relax. Maybe his worry was unprovoked. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe tonight would be a great birthday, he did crave some sea squid soup afterall. Maybe he even would dance.

Or maybe he was cursed. Because the moment he felt comfort, the earth began to shake. Ice crumbled at his feet. Something was coming. Something _big._ He began yelling, telling everyone to return to their tents, and for the warriors to get on the front lines. Though most of the tribe people were already doing so, huge eyes full of fear and shock, scrambling around with terror, rounding up the kids and elderly. Katara and Aang both ran past Sokka, his sister looking terrified but Aang just looking confused.

The Avatar wavered when he passed Sokka, almost as if he wanted to stay on the frontlines and help. Sokka shook his head. It wasn’t smart. He couldn’t let the Avatar expose himself to the Fire Nation. Not now and not _ever_. 

Aang frowned at the shake of his head, but Katara quickly dragged him off, and took cover away from the shaking walls of their small camp. 

Sokka took a deep breath, and grasped his boomerang so tight that he knew his knuckles were turning white.

He got into his battle stance as the massive Fire Nation ship came into view, stopping only when it was right in front of him. 

It was like everything in the world was suddenly frozen. Not just everything around him, but him as well. His breathing had just about stopped, and he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears as everything became eerily silent.

The drawbridge of the ship descended, right at his feet. But he held steady, still holding his breath.

The soldiers piled out in an orderly fashion, all dressed in their seemingly impractical Fire Nation soldier garb. Their leader was in front, a younger man with an angry red scar painted on his left eye. He looked ill tempered, like he was fire personified, as if he could burn everything in his path.

His hair was pulled up in a tight tail that looked uncomfortable, and well, ugly if Sokka was honest. But also, it kept the hair away from his face. His… very distinct face, with his strong jaw and plump pink lips, his cheekbones that were just downright _unfair_ . And his eyes. His eyes were a color that Sokka had never seen before. They were _gold_ . It throws him off for some reason, seeing that this man, well, merely just a boy, he couldn’t be very much older than Sokka, was uncharacteristically beautiful. _Hot_ , his mind unhelpfully says, a pun that he really shouldn’t be thinking of in a time like this. 

This was wrong. He bit his lip hard. This guy was his enemy. He needed to make less observations, and do more actions. _Fuck this_ , Sokka thought to himself, and then he was harshly gripping his blade, letting out a battlecry as he charged the leader. 

Of course, he was kicked onto the ground in a matter of seconds. His ribs lit up in pain, he could tell that at least one was probably cracked. And damn, why did a firebender know moves like this? Since when were they such good hand to hand combat fighters, and not just _woo flame on_ fighters. That was just straight up unfair. Sokka groans as he looks up, to see that the leader is now standing in front of the Tribe’s warriors, who all look terrified. Probably due to the fact that Sokka was _supposed_ to be their best warrior and he was knocked on his ass in a matter of seconds, as if he were just a piece of dust in the Fire Nation leader’s way. It’s so very clear that they are unbelievably outmatched. Although the leader is not fighting the other warriors, he’s just looking around, inspecting, _searching_ , almost as if he knew that-....

_Oh shit._

“Where are you hiding him?” The man suddenly speaks. No one answers, they only give him blank stares. 

The man doesn’t stop though, suddenly zeroing in on the people standing behind the warriors. On Gran Gran of all people, who he grabs roughly by the shoulders ( _oh,_ Sokka was gonna kill him for that), “He is about this age. Master of the four elements!”

No one replies again. The man groans, throwing Gran Gran back toward Katara who holds onto her tight. Sokka has never been so pissed in his entire life. 

“I know you’re hiding him!” The man grunts out, shooting fire at all of them, barely missing them. It’s clearly a warning. 

It’s just like before when the Fire Nation attacked. Sokka couldn’t protect them then, but he will be DAMNED if he doesn’t now. He sees red as he pushes himself back to his feet in one swift move, grabbing his makeshift sword and running toward his opponent.

The man does it again. He throws Sokka on the ground without even _looking_. Sokka almost laughs. He just made a fatal mistake. He thinks that lowly of Sokka, he thinks he’s just some water tribe peasant. He doesn’t think he needs to watch his back with him. The man is underestimating him. Sokka throws his boomerang at the man, missing on purpose.

The man lets out an angry grunt as it whizzes past his face, but then gives Sokka a face that is so unbelievably unimpressed. Sokka runs at him again, this time with a pike thrown toward him by Byuota. The man looks so unamused by Sokka, somehow breaking the damn spear with an easy movement of his arms, then he grabs it out of Sokka’s hands (which first of all _rude)_ and then smacks him in the ribs with it again (second, he knows now that if his ribs weren’t cracked before, they definitely are now. Extremely _rude)._ The man raises an eyebrow at him after, almost as if to say _really?_ to him. Sokka angrily wonders to himself why he ever found the man attractive (what a horrible moment of weakness).

But Sokka’s anger only lasts a second, because he can see past the man from where he’s now sitting on the ground. He can see his boomerang flying back at them with an alarming speed. _Gotcha_.

The boomerang smacks the man on the back of the head with an echoing _CLANK!_ , throwing the man off balance, giving Sokka a second to relish in the happiness of quite literally wiping the smirk off his face, and then he’s jumping on him, slamming him into the snow, his blade against the firebender’s throat.

He feels warm. Way too warm to be someone who has been out in the South Pole air for who knows how long. Sokka can feel the heat radiating off of him from where he’s straddling him, and can feel it through his gloves near where he’s holding the knife to his throat. It must be a firebender thing. Maybe the whole “fire runs through their veins” thing was more literal than Sokka had thought. 

As Sokka looks down at the firebender, the weirdest thing happens. Because for the first time since they met, the man no longer looks angry. He looks stunned, and…. and something. Sokka can’t tell what the expression is. He’s wide eyed and breathless, looking up at Sokka with _wonder,_ as if he were seeing him now for the first time. 

His expression is quickly schooled though, the anger becoming so prominent that Sokka can _feel_ it through the tensing of his body, and the rough gritting of his teeth.

He begins to jerk, trying to throw Sokka off. Sokka pushes the blade down a bit harder, now drawing the slightest amount of blood.

“Ah ah ah,” Sokka tsks, stopping him. The man does stop squirming, glaring up at Sokka with his bright gold eyes, “Not so tough now are you, Sparky?” 

Sokka swears he can see flames burn in his eyes as the fire ignites in his soul, rage consuming him.

But then, suddenly, it’s gone. And he’s _laughing._ Something is wrong. Sokka feels his entire body go cold, despite the human heater under him.

“Look around, _kid,”_ The man says and… and what? He hesitantly looks up, his blade not leaving the leader’s throat because what if this is a trick?

But it’s not. It’s not a trick. Sokka feels sick to his stomach. The Fire Nation cronies all have his tribe members hostage, holding blades to their throats just like Sokka had to his. Sokka had failed. He failed so miserably. 

“Not so tough now are you, _peasant?”_ The last word is spat so viciously that Sokka can tell it means _something_. This man wasn’t just a leader of a random troop, he was higher up. He had a higher social status, Sokka usefully notes. 

“Now tell me, where is the Avatar?” The man asks, smirking under Sokka’s body as if there was no other place in the entire world he would rather be. Sokka feels his mouth go dry. He was always the man with a plan, but now, he has no idea what to do. For the first time in a long time, he’s lost. He’s lost in a pit of fire and golden orbs. 

“I’m right here.” Suddenly the silence is broken, Aang’s voice filling their ears, “I’m right here,” He repeats.

“Get off of me,” The leader harshly spits, throwing Sokka off knowing he wouldn't try anything now that he had the upper hand, “You’re the Avatar?” 

Sokka pushes himself up after the leader, quick enough to be able to see the sad look on Aang's face before it is replaced with hard pride.

“I am,” He says nonchalantly, “And I will go with you.” 

“You’re making it that easy?” The leader asks, clearly distrusting, standing in what must be a Fire Nation battlestance. 

Aang just nods, seeming far too calm and collected for a fifteen year old who was about to be held prisoner by a bunch of fire psychos in the near future. “If you let these people go and promise not to hurt them, then yes, that easy.” 

“Hmm,” The leader seems to consider Aang briefly. Then, his eyes lock with Sokka’s for just a moment, before he states out loud, “Let them go.”

And suddenly the tribe is dropped from the soldiers grasps, relief replacing (only partially) the terror on everyone’s faces.

“Aang-“ Katara of course is the only one who looks sad. Aang was practically sacrificing himself for the tribe. _For your mistakes_ , his mind unhelpfully supplies, _if you hadn’t done what you did maybe the outcome would’ve been different._

“I’ll be fine,” Aang smiles, as if he were just going on a casual stroll rather than a literal Fire Nation battleship. Maybe being frozen for so long messed with his brain. He casually walks up to the nearest soldiers, holding his arms up. They readily place the cuffs on him as the Water Tribe watches in scared silence. 

“I will keep my promise,” The leader says, before taking a step forward, a step toward Sokka. Then, he’s suddenly slamming him into the ground, pushing his boot into his chest as he smirks from his high position on Sokka, “I will keep it starting now.”

What a complete jackass. 

Aang frowns at the display. But still lets the guards take him. Katara is saying something to him, but it’s just background noise to Sokka. He’s too busy staring up at the leader. And the leader is staring back.

“If you try me again, _peasant,”_ He tells him, his voice void of mercy, quiet enough that only Sokka can hear it, “I won’t hesitate to strike you down. Permanently.”

And then he’s turning his back on him. Sauntering off with the now captive Aang and the rest of his cronies without another word.

Sokka feels like he might vomit. He tries to listen to the Tribe people around him, all checking up on eachother to make sure everyone is okay but he’s too caught up in his own thoughts. His own _failure._ How stupid had he been to think that year when he turned fourteen was his worst birthday ever, that it couldn’t ever get any worse. This was officially the worst day _ever_ , just in general.

He got back on his feet, he was _cold,_ unable to keep his shaking body still. _Soaked_ from the snow seeping into his clothes, making his teeth clatter. And as he finally looked up, to see the Fire Nation boat depart, he swore he could feel the _unforgiving_ gaze of the golden eyed boy with the dark scar harshly painted on his pale porcelain skin. 

The realization of his naivety hit him all at once. He hugged his parka closer to his body, feeling his ribs come ablaze at the touch as he lets out a shaky breath.


	2. Two

After that encounter on his Birthday, Sokka’s life quickly turns upside down, he doesn’t even have _time_ to fret over what happened in the South Pole. One minute, he’s checking in on all the tribespeople, making sure everyone is safe and healthy, and the next him and Katara are saying goodbye to Gran Gran who has watery eyes and a proud smile and they leave the Southern Water Tribe for who knows how long. 

They go to save Aang. Which, in reality, he didn’t really need any saving. He’s all smiles and chuckles as they hop onto Appa, and honestly, Sokka is thankful as hell that he didn’t have to face the Fire Nation leader again and that Aang easily took care of it himself, thanking Sokka and Katara profusely for their perfect timing. 

It’s decently relaxed after that, Aang excitedly tells them about Air Tribe customs as they fly across the sky that is slowly turning to night, painting the clouds in a golden glow. Sokka adds some funny comments and jokes here and there, but Aang leads the conversation, which Sokka is grateful for, because his lungs burn whenever he speaks too much. It’s not until the moon is beginning to peak out into the sky that Sokka laughs at something Aang says, and moves in the wrong direction, making his ribs flare in pain. He groans out in displeasure, capturing the attention of both his sister and Aang who readily come to his aid, and who both readily scold him for not informing them of his injury and wrap them the best they can with Katara bending ice onto it to help the swelling, her lips in a tight frown as she does so, but whatever she wants to say, she doesn’t say it. 

They don’t say anything about it. Instead Aang tells them more about where he needs to go on his Avatar journey, and they easily accept when he asks them to tag along. Aang only offers him a few looks of concern, but Sokka brushes them off. And that’s how their adventure starts.

And that’s how Sokka’s life begins to get very weird. But weird in a… kinda good way?

Aang is… well, Aang is (for lack of a better term) _interesting_. He doesn’t act like anyone that Sokka had ever met before, which Sokka already knew since the moment they ever spoke to each other, but now that they were spending even more time together he realizes the extent of it. Aang has some otherworldly carefree ease about him, there is something so unconfined about the way he talks, and the way he smiles, the way he laughs into the wind as they ride into the sunset. 

“I was raised by monks,” Aang informs them in response to Sokka’s comment about his carefree attitude, “I'm so happy we are going to the Air Temple. I can’t wait for you guys to meet them!” 

Sokka almost opens his mouth to tell him _well buddy, they are probably all dead_ but the withering glare that Katara sends him is scary enough for him to absolutely not say that.

Speaking of scary, another thing interesting about Aang is the Avatar state. When they do get to the Air Temple, and their worst thoughts are proven true, Aang ends up going into his weird astral projecting scary mode, and for the first time, Sokka realizes how _dangerous_ the boy is. It’s so weird to see Aang as that. The always smiling, happy go lucky air nomad, was probably also the most deadly being walking the earth. It was almost an oxymoron in itself, a contradiction. It makes Sokka wonder. It makes him _think._ If someone so good could also potentially be so bad, could someone so bad potentially be _good?_

It’s thoughts like these that he ponders as they lay in their sleeping bags and stare up at the night sky on their voyage. It had now been a full week since they had left his home. He turned on his side, only a dull pain when his ribs grazed the ground. 

He smiles as he thinks of the week it had been. Him and Aang actually get along better than Sokka originally thought they would. They goof off a ton, throwing jokes at each other and quips nonstop, matching each other's energy with a carefree ease that Sokka hadn’t felt in so long. There weren’t many people in the Southern Tribe around his age, most had left for battle with his dad, leaving only him and Katara behind. And don’t get him wrong - he loves Katara more than anything, but it’s nice to have someone who isn’t just his sister, and is actually a friend. 

Katara has been great too. It’s been fantastic to watch her work on her bending. Sokka hadn’t seen much bending at all considering Katara was the only bender in the Southern Tribe, and it was a rarity to get visitors there, mostly ones with bending abilities. So, it was pretty cool to finally see it up close and not just through stories. And Katara seemed happy, if her big smiles whenever she mastered a move or her shy smiles that she gave to Aang whenever she thought he wasn't looking was anything to go by. The only thing he didn’t enjoy was the glances she would sometimes give him. They hadn’t talked about what happened back at home. They hadn’t talked about the way Sokka pushed his blade against the man’s throat. They hadn’t talked about his refusal to recognize his injuries, his hurt pride, or his utter failure. Instead they stayed silent, and the look on her face was telling Sokka that that wasn’t gonna last _forever_ , though he was always a dreamer, wasn’t he?

He sighed as he rolled over in his sleeping bag again. Times like this, at night, he’s just alone with his thoughts and they often drift. The failure of his inability to protect his tribe cuts him deep. Deeper than any physical wound. He knows it did turn out okay (though had it? They had technically gone out on their deal, who is to say the Fire Nation wouldn't as well? That thought makes him feel lightheaded), but he still can’t push aside how terrible he did. His dad had trusted him, his dad had been so sure that Sokka could protect his people… but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. 

He hopes that Kyoshi Island is fun and wipes away all of his negative thoughts that he can’t seem to shake.

-

Kyoshi Island is NOT fun. 

He can’t stand the fact that they got bested by a bunch of warrior girls upon entering the island. He can’t stand the jealousy radiating off his sister as Aang is whisked away by every single teenage girl on the island, or her letting out her anger onto him probably without even realizing it. He can’t stand Aang actually feeding into the attention instead of focusing on what they were supposed to be doing. But mostly he can’t stand the fact that he feels a bit out of place. He had thought that this island would be fun, that he would meet some pretty ladies, have a cocktail on the beach maybe, have a little _fun_ , but instead he’s sparring alone in some fancy dojo. 

He’s angrily kicking a punching bag when some of the Kyoshi warriors walk in. Most of them don’t pay him any mind, but he can feel at least one set of eyes on him. He doesn’t really care, just continues his workout, letting out all of his anger in his fighting. 

“Are you really that offended that we kicked your ass?” He suddenly hears next to him, causing him to stop his punches and turn to his left. It’s the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, the one who had personally tied him up with her prideful makeup and a wicked smile on her face. 

“Well, as you can see, with my sick moves,” Sokka throws a nice little kick to the bag that admittedly isn’t as cool as he thought it was gonna be, “I would have kicked _your_ ass if I wanted to. I simply _let_ you kick mine.” 

She looks at the punching bag, then back at him. She looks unimpressed. “Right.”

“What? You want a rematch or something?” He knows in reality that it’s a bad idea. And she was kinda right. Though it wasn’t really the fact that they kicked his ass, it was more that he couldn’t protect himself, or his sister or Aang. Maybe that’s why he felt so _off_. Because it happened again. He failed. He couldn’t protect anyone.

“Do _you?_ ” She asks incredulously, her painted eyebrows raised across her forehead. She looks like she’s about to break out into a fit of laughter. He crosses his arms at this, his lips almost in a pout.

“Well, I wanna if you wanna!” He exclaims, his voice raising an octave. 

“Not really sure I wanna go toe to toe with a man whose ego is so fragile that he can’t get over the fact that a woman beat him,” She retorts, her manicured hand coming to rest on her hip, “So do you really wanna?”

First of all, ouch. Second of all, “It’s not because you’re a woman!” He rushes out, “It’s just…”

“Just what?” She questions with a tilt of her head. 

“Just that I’m Sokka,” He responds dumbly. She leans away from him, not as menacing as before, a curious glint in her eyes.

“Okay…” At least her sass is gone, but now she looks utterly confused, “what does that mean?”

“It means I’m supposed to be the fiercest warrior in the Southern Water Tribe.” He bites his bottom lip as he says it, feeling vulnerable, refusing to make eye contact with the girl. “But I’m not. I’m not fierce at all. I’m barely even a warrior.” The last part comes out almost as a whisper, almost as if he weren’t even saying it to her, but himself. 

“Okay, I’ll train you then,” She says matter of factly. He looks up at her, and all of her seriousness is suddenly gone. She even looks almost excited by the idea.

“Wait, what?” That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. 

“I’ll train you. You can become one of the Kyoshi Warriors. I’ll show you what I know.” She says it with such an earnest stare, determination flashing in her eyes, that he knows that she must see something in him. She must believe what he says, which he isn’t sure is a good or a bad thing.

“I… okay.” He isn’t sure why he agrees, it’s not like this is what they came here to do, but hey, it beats angrily punching a bag, and maybe he would learn a thing or two. The Kyoshi warriors _were_ certified badasses after all. 

“Let’s get you the makeup and outfit on and then we can get started!” And with that sentence it’s the first time he sees a smile on her face. It entrances him for a second, causing him only to just nod and smile back in response before the words catch up to him.

“Wait WHAT-“

-

Okay, so surprisingly, dressing like a girl was kinda comfortable. The Kyoshi warrior outfit was light and airy. His movements felt so much lighter and sleeker in the dress, his kicks being able to reach higher as the dress allowed more room for extension. 

The makeup covering his face, however. Well… He could certainly do without it. He even tried to take it off but it wouldn’t budge, the warriors explaining that it needed water and then it would easily rub off to which he just sighed. Maybe Katara would waterbend it off him later if he asked nicely. 

“You are unrecognizable,” The leader of the warriors, Suki, had told him.

“I don’t know,” Laika, one of the other warriors had interjected, “He’s still pretty outside of the makeup. I think he kinda looks the same.”

The word pretty makes him blink for a second. He had never been called that before. Usually only girls were called that. And she had said without the makeup he looked it too? He isn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Hmm,” Is all Suki had hummed in response to Laika, and then she’s suddenly flipping Sokka on his ass with a quick “Always keep yourself on guard” comment. 

Honestly, the training goes… surprisingly well. Suki ends up being a fantastic trainer. She watches him as he spars with some of the other warriors, then helps him build on what he already knows.

“You have an interesting stance,” She tells him at one point, “You are never still. You are always moving. Which is great. Warriors need to be able to adapt and move quickly. Use that to your advantage.”

Another is, “You seem to favor your right arm while punching. You must be used to weapons like blades.”

“A boomerang is my weapon of choice,” he informs her. She gives him an odd look at that. He can’t blame her for it.

“Keep in mind to use your left as well. Even if you aren’t striking with it, it can be used as defense.”

Everything he learns from Suki and the other warriors DOES actually help him. And by the time it’s almost dusk, and he has spent probably around 6 hours nonstop training, he feels better about himself, his anger finally gone.

“Thank you,” He tells Suki, who just smiles at him in response. She’s much nicer now that she… maybe likes him? Realizes he’s not a sexist asshole? Something along those lines.

“I barely taught you anything. I just told you what I saw,” She replies as she hands him a water pouch that he gratefully accepts. He finds it hard to believe her words, but he knows logically they are partially true. You couldn’t teach someone the moves he did in a few hours. He had knocked a few warriors down at the end of the training as well, it was impossible for him (or anyone) to suddenly learn the ways of a warrior that quick. Maybe it was just luck he duly thinks, but he knows to credit himself just a _little_ bit more. He did in fact get a Fire Nation leader down once, even if it wasn’t his greatest plan.

“I think sometimes our own greatest enemies are ourselves. You can’t get into your own head while fighting. Rely on your intuition more, Sokka. It helped you today, and it will help you more in future battles.” 

He nods at her words, taking them to heart as he sips his water. She was right. 

“Suki, seriously though. Thank y-“

“Girls come out quick!” A voice suddenly interrupts, out of breath but yelling into the dojo, “Firebenders have breached our shores!”

And just like that, everyone is jumping to their feet, the post training calm quickly gone, seriousness back in the threshold. 

“Wait hey I’m not a gir-'' Sokka tries to argue before just sighing to himself and following everyone out in battle formation. It was no use. 

They quickly round all the townspeople up, hiding them in homes and away from where the Fire Nation would soon be walking the streets. And then Suki quickly addresses the warriors to make a plan. The plan is that they hide themselves, and wait for the Fire Nation to come stroll into town so they can surround and flank them. The element of surprise. 

Sokka nervously waits alone in the alley between some buildings, idly wondering if Katara and Aang were alright. He knows that both of them can handle themselves, but he would still be comforted in actually knowing the fact they were okay, not just assuming. 

He stays silent, tapping his foot against the ground as he awaits the signal to charge. He looks around at his surroundings — there isn’t much in the alley. A small dumpster and a set of stairs leading up a fire escape next to him. He looks at the stairs, old and rusted, and finds a few things leaning precariously on the ledge of them. A pair of sandals (they are hideous, Sokka had always hated the idea of sandals, they seemed like shoes that were just simply not made all the way). , a single flower (a carnation - deep red, with purple along the edges), and a bucket that had obviously been sitting there for a long time because it was now full of what was presumably rain water (gross). Sokka sighs about how uninteresting it was. It was truly doing nothing for his nerves to wait like this, mostly considering it was taking the Fire Nation _forever_ to come out for some reason. He anxiously tugs at his hair as he thinks, causing his wolf tail to fall out. He straps the hairband to his wrist and runs his fingers through his brown locks, still tapping his foot in anticipation. He doesn’t know how much time passes. Maybe ten minutes. But he knows something is wrong. The Fire Nation should’ve already walked through town. But they aren’t. They somehow know their plan. They’re waiting them out, or even worse, _singling_ them out. 

And just as this realization hits, something breaks the deafening silence:

“You know, if you are trying to stay hidden, making a tapping noise usually isn’t the best way to do it.”

Sokka’s entire body goes cold. Not because he was caught in his position, his back to the enemy. Not because he didn’t have the high ground. _No_ . He freezes because he _recognizes_ that voice.

Sokka turns around quickly, his hair whipping around a bit as he does so, falling against his cheeks, which makes Sokka wish he hadn’t been messing with it and it was still up out of the way. The firebender from the South Pole is standing there, in all of his angry heated glory, a smirk plastered on his face. He looks different in the sunlight of the island. Somehow, it makes him look even brighter, even more unreal. His golden eyes are practically glistening, burning like the sun. He looks more saturated, more pristine and so goddamn beautiful that Sokka’s anger and disappointment with himself hits him again without a missed beat. 

The mischievous grin leaves the man’s face quickly, right as Sokka turns around fully. _Oh shit_ , the man recognized him. He was so fucking screwed.

“I am looking for the Avatar,” The man states neutrally, looking almost a bit awkward. _What?_ Sokka fully expected instant fire balls being flung at him, not this. 

The confusion must show on his face because the leader speaks again, this time slower, as if he thought Sokka was stupid. Rude.

“I’m looking for the Avatar. Have you seen him? The quicker I find him the quicker I leave.” And _oh shit x2_ , maybe the man DIDN’T recognize him. No, he thought Sokka was an actual Kyoshi warrior. Sokka immediately knows he can’t speak. The moment he does the charade is up. He knows that the man would recognize him.

So, instead Sokka shakes his head.

“You hesitated,” The man comments, and damn him for being competent, “My men have this entire town surrounded. Unless you wanna watch your homes burn to the ground, I suggest you tell me what I wanna know.” 

Sokka doesn’t respond, knowing damn well he is fucked, and why does this keep happening? Was this some cosmic punishment where he was bound to go toe and toe with this firebender asshole who was in severe need of a new hairdresser? Why would the universe be so cruel?

The man seems fed up now, taking a few steps closer to Sokka, his hands out in front of him, small sparks dancing on his fingers. It’s a threat. One that Sokka knew he wouldn’t be able to fight against.

Sokka has to think quickly. He has to do something to stop the man, but he can’t speak, he knows that if he did, it would do nothing to stop his untimely demise but instead exacerbate it. He couldn’t fight him, the man clearly had the high ground and all Sokka had was a blade strapped to his back that he doubts he would even have enough time to grab and try to attack with before flames were being shot at him. 

But then something in his mind sings, and he knows what he has to do. He does a completely random jumble of hand motions. 

He had met a mute person once when he was a small child. They were from the Earth Nation. They had come to the Southern Water Tribe to meet with his father about some battle that was happening in the near future, and about how if they won it, it could improve trade. He remembers watching as the adults gathered around fire. The Earth chief used hand motions instead of speaking, the only sound was the crackling of the kinder. Myka, their tribe’s translator, nodded as he (listened? watched?) as the chief moved their hands. It was a language. One that was not commonly known fluently, but should be known well enough that people at least _kinda_ know what it means.

And it does work. Because the man stops only a foot or two in front of Sokka, his mouth forming into a thin line, dark eyebrows furrowed. 

“You can’t speak?” He asks slowly again, looking a bit out of place and awkward again. Sokka duly wonders if he hasn’t had a lot of human encounters with the general public, he seemed very hesitant during his interactions, almost as if he were…. Suddenly Sokka remembers the way he had spat the word peasant at him, the way he said it with so much passion and meaning. The way he was young, way younger than Sokka expected a leader of a Fire Nation army would be. The way he held himself, with such elegance and cockiness, yet lacked human interaction skills as if he were isolated for most of his life, as if he was used to mostly keeping around the same people, not meeting anyone of different tribes or cultures. 

Was he royalty of some kind? It would also explain why his hair was different, more regal, with what almost looked like a small crown at the base of the hightail. Sokka can’t help but ponder this.

Though he breaks his thoughts just as fast as they come so he can nod rapidly. The man frowns, pausing for a second before speaking again.

“So, don’t tell me then. Take me to the Avatar instead.” The threatening voice is back, the man slightly leaning in toward Sokka. And now they are even closer. _Way_ too close for comfort. Close enough that Sokka can suddenly feel the man’s warmth again, just as hot as he was before. It’s _distracting_. Sokka sucks in his bottom lip, trying to collect his thoughts and think of any way to get out of this, because he’s already pressing his luck as it is. He deftly watches as the man tracks the movement intensely, and it could be a trick of the light, but Sokka swears he sees the man’s pupils dilate. 

_Interesting._

Then, Sokka sees movement behind the leader, over down the road both Katara and Aang were just casually strolling through the street, obviously not picking up on the battle plan that they were hiding to sneak attack the firebenders. God, they were never gonna survive this whole “defeat the Firelord” thing, were they?

The man must realize that Sokka is looking at something behind him, because he tilts his head ever so slightly in wonder and then begins to turn-

And curse the universe, Sokka panics, because he can’t let him see Aang and Katara, who knows what the man would do, mostly considering the couple was just happily sauntering around town without a care in the world, they weren’t prepared to battle.

At least that’s what he tells himself in the moment. That’s what he convinces himself of. It’s necessary. What he did was what he had to do. There was no other reason. It was out of pure, unadulterated necessity. Life or death. 

He grabs the man by the face, his hands on his cheeks, and slams their mouths together in one prompt move. Of course, understandably, the man is stiff. He’s shocked. Sokka can feel how tense he is where their bodies are flush together. He can feel the hesitation on his lips, and if Sokka opened his eyes he knew he would see wide golden ones staring at him in stupefaction.

But he doesn’t. He just continues pushing his lips against the man’s in a practiced move, giving him enough space to back away, but he remains still. Shell shocked. 

Sokka knows he is about to say hello to Tui and La as he enters the spirit world because this man was most definitely gonna turn him into a burnt kebab. The man was constrained, like a volcano ready to blow, and Sokka giving him an unprompted kiss was probably _not_ something he should be doing. And yet...

Oddly enough, something else happens. The man's body softens, he honest to god relaxes, he _melts_. And then he is kissing back, with the same amount of vigor. Sokka feels a part of himself crumble. He feels a piece of his heart _burn_. 

He wasn’t sure what the outcome would be to this. He isn’t even sure he thought of one for Tui’s sake. He just knew that at the moment it was what he wanted… no that was wrong, it was simply what he needed to do, to keep Katara and Aang safe. But that plan only should’ve lasted for that split moment, shouldn’t it? 

It’s honestly the scariest thing in the world to Sokka. He had always relied on his wit, on his logic, but not in regards to _him_. For some reason during both his encounters with the firebender, something else took control of Sokka, something that he couldn’t quite explain, something that he couldn’t shake. Something that made him throw planning out the proverbial window. But at this point, it was like he himself jumped out the proverbial window, right down into the deep end of the unknown. 

The man’s lips are soft and warm, but also rough and unforgiving. He stumbles a bit in his kissing, clearly unpracticed. Sokka had his fair share of kisses, with some women but mostly with men because it wasn’t like there were ever many people in the small Southern Water Tribe his age, so he never was picky, but gender never really mattered to him anyways. But out of all of them, out of all the soft touches, all the kisses, all the heated makeouts, for some reason nothing compared to _this._ Maybe it was because he knew it was wrong. Maybe he finally hit his rebellious teen years that Gran Gran would complain his dad had, maybe he was having some kind of weird sexuality crisis or maybe he was just going plain outright crazy. His head is spinning like a top making him dizzy, his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest and explode, he feels like his skin is aflame, and he wonders if it will leave a mark, a scorching searing scar directly on his heart. 

He pulls back slightly, moving their positions so he is pushing the man lightly against the alley wall. The man lets him, he submits, and lets out an intoxicating mewling sound as Sokka kisses his neck. Sokka is surprised to find how pliable the man is, how readily he complies to Sokka’s touch, how he allows him to kiss up his neck and devour his mouth. And he keeps making these little noises, little sounds that are driving Sokka insane, pulling him deeper into the moment, deeper into the heat they are creating together, and in doing so, it becomes more passionate, more intense, and there seems like less time to stop this. Less time to ever come back from the ledge they were going off. 

Sokka subconsciously knows that Katara and Aang were probably very much out of sight by now. He knows that this _should_ stop. But he can’t. And for some reason, it seems that neither can the man, who is still kissing him back with the same amount of virility. Maybe Sokka’s thoughts were causing him to subconsciously back away a little, because seemingly at random, the firebender slams Sokka back roughly, towering over him. Sokka moans in response, not that surprised that the man who appeared so angry before wanted to take charge. Sokka pushes back, trying to take control again himself, resulting in some wrestling between their bodies, all while their mouths kiss eagerly, wet and sultry. 

They go back and forth like that - a battle between their bodies that quickly becomes uncontrolled, and before Sokka knows it, he is accidentally pushing the man into the rusty fire escape stairs. He didn’t even realize they were that close next to them, too distracted by the events taking place. The stairs wobble and creek in return, and the bucket above the stairs ledge is falling just in time for Sokka’s eyes to fly open at the sound. 

SWOOSH! It falls directly on them, soaking the two men in (again, quite frankly _gross_ ) rain water. Sokka groans, rubbing at his face to dry it before he looks back over at the man who is staring at him with wide eyed shock and _oh fuck_.

He looks down at his sleeve. The Kyoshi warriors had told him it wasn't waterproof, that it would come off easily with a touch of water. His makeup had rubbed off enough to ruin his disguise, and the Fire Nation man is staring directly at him, in complete wide eyed shock.

“You,” He spits out in shock and fury, the mix intertwining into something venomous, something far more venomous than Sokka had ever heard before. It’s a hateful, bitter sound. 

Sokka freezes. This is the absolute worst situation ever. He doesn’t even know what to do. He isn’t sure there is anything he can do.

“Me!” He exclaims, doing nothing to quell the man’s anger. “I’m Sokka, by the way. Wow, isn’t it crazy that we aren’t on a first name basis yet?”

The man takes a step closer, his rage clear in his stance. Oh, Sokka was a dead man. He cheated death far too many times today, his luck was up, completely done-zo. 

“Maybe you should tell me your name too! I mean, I just told you mine, and we did kinda just swap spit and everything so I think…”

The man is so close now that Sokka almost forgets how to breathe, he’s hovering over him against the wall, and all Sokka can think about is how the man just had him pressed against this wall as their tongues met, gods, his mouth was so _warm_ , and his body was pressed against-

Focus. Sokka needed to _focus_. He had clearly lost all rational thinking skill at this point because he just panics again and exclaims, 

“We have absolutely _got_ to stop meeting like this!”

“I am going to tear you apart limb by limb!” The man finally finds his voice again. His exclamation is loud enough that Sokka is sure the entire town could probably hear it. 

“Nice to meet you Mr. _I am going to rip you apart limb by limb_. Are you opposed to nicknames? I think just ‘Limb’ would work. Saying the whole thing is kinda a mouthful,” Sokka says so quickly that he isn’t even sure the man understands him fully. 

The man lets out an extremely frustrated groan yell, and woah, a tiny puff of _fire_ comes out his mouth as he does it which is kinda cool but also extraordinarily terrifying, mostly considering that fire is probably going to be all over Sokka’s body as he burns to death in the next ten seconds but, still. 

The man then takes a large, raggedy breath, and is lifting both of his hands forward, and Sokka sees the fire spark at his fingertips. He accepts his fate, squeezing his eyes shut. He hopes it doesn’t hurt too much.

Then suddenly he’s being pushed out of the way by a warm gust of wind. 

“Oh thank god, I have never been more happy to see your bald little head,” Sokka yells as he finally wrenches his eyes open to see Aang, who has his palms out in an airbending stance. Man, his timing was always perfect. Sokka looks over to where the man is, his fire has smacked the concrete wall leaving dark scorch marks, and now his deadly anger is not just on Sokka, but Aang as well. 

“Hey Sokka!” Aang smiles brightly at him, not even paying attention to the viscous firebender, as if he didn’t even see him positively fuming, “Is my head actually little? I actually thought it might be too big for my body if anything.”

“It was just a figure of speech. Your head is perfectly fine,” Sokka assures the younger boy who smiles brightly in response. 

“Aww, thanks Sokka!”

“Can we just fight!” The firebender yells out at them, fed up with their talking, looking even slightly confused by the pair, though his fury is still, _clearly_ , his most present emotion. 

Sokka looks around to see that all the Kyoshi warriors are out of the shadows, along with the Fire Nation soldiers. There’s a war raging around them now, the clashing of swords and fans, and fire erupting in beautifully destructive explosions. 

There’s also Aang, who is in his fighting position, so calm and relaxed, the exact opposite of the angry chaos of the man in front of them.

Then, they are suddenly fighting as well. Fire against air, anger against calm, free against constrained. Sokka is about to walk over to Katara, who is fighting three soldiers at once, ‘cause hey, he wasn’t useless, he was a decent fighter and he had a sword and everything and he’ll be damned if he stood around during a battle, but then the man is shooting a flame directly at _him_ , not Aang. 

It surprises him. One, because it actually hits him. His flame he wields is like a sword, and it cuts him in a sweltering heat, on his face right by his eye. If it were any closer, it would’ve actually hit his eye, and he could’ve gone blind (this is what Suki later tells him after the Kyoshi healer heals him, she has concern written all over her face as she does so), he knows right away that it will scar, mostly considering he can instantly feel the blood running down his face after the fire hits him. And two, what surprises him most, is that the man knew attacking Sokka - that redirecting his fire to him rather than focus on Aang - would leave him open, causing a huge flow of wind to throw him on the ground because of his guard being down, instead focused on Sokka. 

He must’ve known that would happen. Yet still, he did it. There was one obvious conclusion to come to: he now hated Sokka more than he hated the Avatar, who he seemed hellbent on trying to capture (and could Sokka really blame him? He would definitely be unpacking that later when he wasn’t bleeding and in the middle of battle). Sokka pulls out his sword, and stands toward the man. 

Right as the man gets back up, he’s throwing both of his fists out. One burst of fire going toward Sokka, the other toward Aang. They both readily dodge. Sokka grasps his sword tightly, hoping to maybe get close enough to hit the man, though he doubts it.

“He’s not focusing on me, he’s focused on you,” Aang whispers to him as he deftly passes, light on his feet, both of them just barely dodging the fireballs, “Keep his focus. I have an idea!”

Then suddenly Aang is disappearing, which is just _lovely_. He totally could handle an angry firebender who wanted to kill him alone with just a sword in his hand. What a _fantastic_ idea. 

The man doesn’t even seem to care that Aang has gone, now just focusing all of his energy on Sokka, who is barely able to dodge as they whiz past him. The angry cut on his face burns as the wind hits it, and Sokka realizes that when it does scar, it will in a way, match the man’s he was fighting. It certainly wasn’t as big, just a line that went from right above his eyebrow down to the top of his cheekbone, but it still was on his face near his eye, just like his. Except it was on the opposite eye. Maybe that was part of their destiny, paralleling each other, and dancing this dance of yin and yang. 

Right as Sokka is jumping to the side of a particularly large gust of fire being shot at him, he catches Aang in the corner of his eye. Oh, that genius air boy was sneaking up behind the firebender, nodding at Sokka with a flick of his head. Sokka knows what he’s telling him.

Sokka screams, and runs at the man like a complete psychopath. It’s enough to throw the man off slightly, throwing off his senses enough for him not to realize Aang was dangerously close to him. Right as the man is about to shoot what would probably be a fatal blow to Sokka, Aang throws a gust of wind so strong that the man goes flying, and _ouch_ , that’s gotta hurt. 

The wind keeps going, throwing everyone off their feet, quelling all the fire burning the town. They had won the battle with a single gigantic gust of wind, full on Avatar style. 

Sokka watches as the soldiers retreat in a flurry, their leader nowhere in sight. Sokka knows this because for some reason, he looks for him. _To make sure he doesn’t try to shoot me with fire again_! He tries to reason with himself, though it’s like there’s a devil on his shoulder that also says _to make sure he’s alright._

Though he doesn’t have to think of it for long, because Katara is running at him soon enough with a yell of “Oh my god, Sokka!” which of course catches the attention of Aang as well, and Suki, along with a few other Kyoshi warriors and _oh yeah_ , he remembers. there is most definitely blood all over his face, paired with his smeared makeup and water soaked hair, he probably looked like a complete disaster.

They all quickly guide him to the infirmary, ignoring his retelling of, “Did you see how badass I was? That man was like _pew pew fire!_ And I was like _feel the wrath of my sword, slice slice!_ And then Aang was like _feel the power of a thousand winds, whoooooosh!_ ” and instead help him wash the blood and the rest of the makeup off himself as one of the Kyoshi healers bandages his wound. 

Things move pretty fast after that. Everyone is consumed with helping out where they can. The island is looking horrible, so much of it burnt and broken paired with a few injured warriors. Suki insists on keeping a lookout to make sure the Fire Nation boats leave completely, and it’s not until the moon is high in the sky that everything is quieted down, and by then Appa is already set and ready to fly, and their time on Kyoshi Island has come to an end. 

Sokka is standing in the middle of town, saying his goodbyes to a few passing warriors when Aang shows up next to him.

“You okay?” The boy asks with his wide eyes, always so filled with care. Aang was a lot of things, but on top of it all, he was a good friend

“Yeah,” Sokka assures him with a small smile, “It’s my first awesome battle scar! I’m honestly fantastic!” 

“I didn’t mean physically,” Aang says slowly, sounding far beyond his years. Sokka takes in a deep breath. Honestly, he wasn’t sure all that Aang had seen. Aang could've easily seen him and the man in a compromising position, he wasn’t sure how long the airbender was there before he stepped in. It’s obvious he certainly knows _something,_ and that thought makes Sokka fill with dread. He wasn’t even sure what to make of his encounters with the man, let alone what others would make of them. He can’t even put into words how weirdly drawn to him he feels, how he, even after the fact, didn’t fully _regret_ doing what he did. 

“I’m fine,” is all Sokka says instead, hoping that Aang drops it. He doesn’t even wanna think about it. He honestly wants to get on with his life, and never even see the man again! Maybe he would stop trying to hunt the Avatar after this. Maybe this was the end of their story. But of course, Aang doesn’t drop it.

“Why was he so angry with _you_? I mean, I thought he just wanted to get the Avatar but it seems like you were his top priority,” Aang says the words slowly, almost as if he were hesitant to ask. At least he didn’t see them makeout against the alley wall. Thank gods, that was a line of questioning that Sokka never in a million years wanted to be put through. He simply noticed the obvious anger toward Sokka. Sokka could work with that.

“Probably what happened back at the South Pole. What can I say! I’m a master bladesman who bested him in battle! Of course he would hold a vendetta!” Sokka hopes that his joking and regular cockiness and smiles is enough to make Aang stop worrying, stop _questioning_. He hopes it’s enough to make the younger boy laugh and agree.

Except he doesn’t. Instead, he just frowns at Sokka.

“Yeah but-“ Aang begins, and Sokka wants to thank every god in existence because Suki suddenly appears, rushing toward the two boys with a smile and yell of “Sokka!” 

“Gotta go, Aang! We’ll continue this later!” Sokka quickly runs away, like a coward. Because he is a coward. He would preferably not ever retell the story of how he had just _kissed a firebender_ . Mostly to Aang out of all people. Aang would probably look up at him with huge sad eyes, and then tell Katara who might frankly kill him. Mostly considering _who_ the firebender was, the man who was trying to murder all of them. Yeah, that would go over well.

“I wanted to say bye before you left.” Suki smiles at him softly as she says the words. He smiles back. He was going to miss her. She was in a way, everything he had ever wanted. A pretty girl who could hold her own, one that genuinely cared, and didn’t shy away in the face of battle. Smart, strong and brave. Yet, for some reason, he doesn’t feel butterflies in his stomach. He doesn’t feel his heart skip a beat around her. 

“That’s definitely gonna scar,” Suki whispers, her hand coming to lightly graze where the bandage was on his face. He leans into the touch. 

“Gonna look totally badass though,” He says with a grin. She grins back, and with a little laugh replies with “totally.”

“I’m gonna see you again, right?” He asks her suddenly. He hopes he does. Maybe eventually in time, he will be able to appreciate her, be able to _love_ her. 

“Of course,” She responds confidentially, the moon giving her an ethereal glow. 

“Can I get something to remember you by?” He asks flirtatiously, not even trying to be subtle. She rolls her eyes at him, and grabs him by the cheek, pushing their mouths together.

Right there, underneath the moonlight with the stars twinkling at them, it should’ve been everything. It should’ve at least been _something_. Yet, it doesn’t feel like a beginning, a start to a beautiful thing. It doesn’t feel like anything but a goodbye. 

He feels his gut twist as they part. Maybe his heart had been scorched and burned. Because why did he feel it all (butterflies, fireworks, heart beating fast, everything all at _once_ ) not with her, but with the firebender boy?

He feels numb as they finish their goodbyes, smiles, hugs and waves. “See ya laters!” and “Stay safe, Team Avatar!” sound out as they get set to leave. He gives Suki one last quick hug before he walks away to Appa. Katara smirks at him as he gets on Appa’s back, wiggling her eyebrows to which he just snorts and pushes at her lightly. Aang, however, doesn’t. But he doesn’t bring up the conversation they left off on either. If Aang saw something, or thought something, he apparently wasn’t gonna say it. Sokka isn't sure if that fact comforts him or concerns him. 

They ride in silence for a while, all still consuming what had happened with the battle they had just fought, a peaceful quiet doing them good. Sokka in particular is trying to sort out his own thoughts. He’s consumed in them, they are like a tangled web of disaster, a gigantic perpetual knot of puzzling disarray. 

So, as one does, he decides to try and untangle it.

 _Worry._ That is the first string he decides to tug. He was worried about him not being a great warrior, about him not being good enough to protect the people he loves. That worry was partially quelled today, he does feel a bit better about the whole thing. He still wasn’t as good of a warrior as he would like to be, but he was at least trying, and he owed himself that. He owed himself the chance to try and to get better. What Suki had said stuck with him, “sometimes our own greatest enemies are ourselves,” it was true, he really needed to get out of his head sometimes, he could still kick some serious ass, even if all of his plans didn’t work out like he wanted. All he could do is get up, and try again until they _did._

 _Anxiety._ This string was tied with his worry. It was the part that made him tap his feet unconsciously, it made him chew on his nails while he was enraptured in thought. It was his heart pounding rapidly before an important decision, the way his breath would sometimes be stuck in his lungs, making his chest feel like it was about to explode. It was what came to him when he thought of the future - of what this journey was leading to- fighting the biggest, baddest, most evil person on the planet. How was that not supposed to give him anxiety? Though, then again, maybe it was a string that was supposed to stay tangled, anxiety made him doublethink his plans, it made him actually think about the details (something he didn’t tend to do, what can he say? He was much more of a big picture kinda guy). His anxiety, in a way, made him better. 

_Grief_. This was a string that had always been there, entangled gracefully around him. He carried it with him, through every plan, through every battle. And with each win, it slowly became undone, yet still it was persisting. He wondered if that grief would ever fully go away. He doubted it. 

_Loneliness._ This one had always been there too, hadn’t it? It wasn’t like he ever had many people that were _his people._ Don’t get him wrong, he loved his family more than anything, but he never had very many friends. He was always extroverted, and was around whoever he could be, hanging around having a good time. He was closer with Katara now than he had ever been and he also had Aang, but the feeling didn’t dissolve. Nor had it ever before, even while surrounded by his fellow tribe members, or fellow warriors, or even his entire family, there was still longing in his chest for something, for _someone_ , that he could connect with in a different way. In a way that the moment they locked eyes (alone together - in a crowded room - anywhere in the whole wide world) he wouldn’t feel alone. Someone who could wash away the feeling altogether. Someone who he could be someone with. 

Then there was the final cord. 

_Guilt._ Guilt. Oh, guilt. This one wasn’t a string at all, it was a rope. It was so big, so tied together, so convoluted and matted, he wasn’t even sure where to begin. It wasn’t just tied together on itself either, no it was bound to _him_ , suffocating him like a serpent wrapped around its prey. He was guilty, oh boy was he. He was guilty for putting the lives of his tribe at risk (why didn’t he make a better plan that day?). He was guilty at letting his emotions take the better of him (this was so unlike him, why was this suddenly one of his most pressing issues?). He was guilty for letting his _desires_ consume his rational thoughts (the firebender was so pretty. But there were lots of pretty people around, like Suki for example. So why? Why was it _him_ that Sokka had to actually acknowledge how gorgeous he was, like a repeating mantra in his mind). He was guilty that he kissed the war lord. That he had ENJOYED kissing the war lord. He was so damn guilty. Yet, the weirdest part was he didn’t _just_ feel guilty about all of that (which was already a lot to unpack as it is) but he was almost guilty about taking advantage of the firebender like that. Did he overstep? It wasn’t like the firebender would’ve let him kiss him if he knew he was Sokka, right? Maybe his anger was justified. Maybe Sokka was in a way, just as bad as him. Altogether, his guilt was persistent, nagging, overwhelming. Sokka just hoped he could avoid it. He hoped that he could forget about everything that had just occurred. He could forget about the boy with the amber eyes and soft lips, forget about the way his hands felt gripping his arms, his body heat radiating into Sokka’s skin. Out of sight, out of mind. He hopes he never sees the man again.

Though there was one thing that would never be out of sight again — the scar on his eye would be a constant reminder of his guilt. Whenever he caught his reflection, whenever someone casually brought it up, whenever his fingers touched his face to feel the scar tissue painting his skin. A reminder that maybe he truly wasn’t as good as he once believed. He swallows down the thought, it burns his throat. 

It’s not until they have been flying off into the night for about an hour when Katara finally speaks up again. 

“We found out who that guy is,” Katara says rapidly, almost as if she forgot. 

“What? How?” Sokka decides to ignore the fact that they apparently forgot to inform him anytime sooner. Then again, it doesn’t surprise him with Aang and Katara, they seemed to be off in their own world half of the time. 

“We were at the shore when the Fire Nation first breached the island. We heard them talking to him,” Katara explains, Momo making a small purring noise at her as she does, causing her to scruff his fur a bit. 

“Oh? Wait! If you guys knew the Fire Nation was there why did you waltz directly into town like you did!” Sokka takes what he thought earlier back. They were off in their own world _all_ of the time, apparently.

“We thought they might’ve taken everyone prisoners!” Katara responds sheepishly, “Besides, it all worked out.”

“Okay whatever,” Sokka snorts, he tries to keep his voice disinterested so he doesn’t give it away that his heart is suddenly beating out of his chest, his interest all consuming, “So who is that guy anyways?”

“Prince Zuko. Heir to the Firelord throne,” Aang abruptly speaks from where he was silently guiding Appa. Sokka sucks in a breath. That is.. certainly a lot. He had hypothesized it, he could tell that he must’ve been high up on the Fire Nation food chain, maybe even Royal in some aspect… but the crown prince? He almost wishes he hadn’t figured it out, that it wasn’t true. The jokester part of Sokka wants to blurt out something dumb like “Guys, I totally sucked face with the future Firelord!” though he knows that no one else would find it as funny as him. 

“Yikes,” He breathes out instead, hoping Katara can’t read his varying emotions flickering across his face before he schools them. This was insane. He kissed the future Firelord…. _And he liked it._ This man also now hated him, with a raging, scorching passion, the wound that was scarring near his eye was proof of that. So why did Sokka, for whatever reason, not automatically hate him back? Maybe it was the guilt. It was the fact that he kissed Zuko knowing who he was, knowing that Zuko would never kiss _him_ if he knew that it was Sokka. All of his thoughts were jumbled and contradicting, and all too consuming. He needed to clear his head somehow. 

“We had the same thought,” Katara merely replies, none the wiser. Sokka doesn’t respond, causing Katara to give him an odd look.

“You seem quiet.” Curse her for being aware of people and how they act. Why couldn’t she let him have an existential crisis in peace?

“I miss Suki,” He easily lies, hoping that it does enough to push aside her analytical nature, “and I also feel like our lives just got a lot more complicated.” The second part is at least true. 

Aang turns around at his words, a considerate expression on his face as he tilts his head slightly.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but then he looks directly at Sokka and says, “Yes, I think they did.” 

That was definitely not helping with Sokka’s crisis. Since when did Aang have a single passive aggressive bone in his body? What exactly was he thinking? Spirits, Sokka had a long day. He almost laughs to himself as he remembers the thought that he had about how Kyoshi Island was going to be a fun pit stop. 

“Well, I’m gonna catch some shut eye! We got a long journey ahead of us,” Sokka casually says out loud to them, not even wanting to talk anymore. He grabs his sleeping back and lays out the best he can on the limited space on Appa. He needed to rest and clear his head. As he stares up at the stars moving by, he hopes things will be more clear by morning, and tries to make sense of all the things that had happened that day with Zuko. _Zuko._ He thinks without prompt, a careless drifting thought that moves through his mind like a gust of wind traveling by. _His name is Zuko._ Sokka almost wishes he didn’t know it.

-

 _Sokka_. That was his name. Zuko was happy he knew it. Now he knew who one of his biggest enemies was, right on par with the Avatar. He thought of plans on how to destroy him as he stared at the ground on his way back to the warship, ignoring all the soldiers who tried to speak with him, glaring daggers at them. Yes, they had failed this mission, but they would eventually win, and take down the Avatar along with his little friends. This was not the end, it was only the beginning. 

As he stomps his way back onto the ship, Iroh is on the top deck, a tea cup that looks almost too small for him clasped between his hands. 

“Hello Prince Zuko! How was your adventure to Kyoshi Island? Did you see the Avatar?” Iroh has a kind smile on his face. It’s an annoying smile, Zuko notes. 

Zuko angrily grunts in response, hoping it’s enough for Iroh to just stop speaking so Zuko can make it to his room faster.

“Well. If you didn’t see the Avatar at least you met someone else!” Iroh speaks again with a bright smile. This makes Zuko pause. What was this crazy old man on about?

“What?” He asks pausing in his steps, turning toward his uncle.

“Unless you are just trying lipstick for yourself, and if that’s the case then you may want to try to put it on your lips not your neck! 

And oh _Agni._ This was NOT happening. He doesn’t even warrant his uncle a response, he just sharply pushes past him, choosing to ignore the chortling from the old man, feeling his fists tighten at his sides.

He slams the door to his room open and then locks it shut with the same amount of vigor. He hastily goes to his mirror, and just as his uncle had told him, there is a notable smudge of lipstick right across his neck. Iroh was never going to let him live this down. And neither was he himself. 

He had always been so neutral. He had commended himself on it. He was always too focused on his missions in front of him to care about stupid things like attraction. That was a trivial matter, one that he simply didn’t concern himself with. 

But then the stupid water tribe boy had come along, and slammed his way right on top of Zuko. He honestly didn’t even care when they first met, he was just a peasant who got in the way. Then, it turned out that he was the first one outside of the Fire Nation to _ever_ pin him. To ever hold his own life over him. To ever surprise him so much that he froze (a peasant so brave, so daring, so full of wit), and looked up. 

That’s when Zuko did finally look at him, when he finally _really_ looked at him. In that moment the world stopped for just a second, or maybe just his heart did.

It was like all of the years of his repressed romantic (or sexual, he couldn’t tell) interest and hormones kicked in the moment he looked into the boy’s blue eyes. It wasn’t helping that the boy was straddling him, smirking down with a dangerous glint covering his face. Spirits, he was beautiful. 

He pushed it aside instantly. It was wrong. The boy was a _peasant_ for crying out loud (as well as a BOY, which, he knew was banish worthy in the Fire Kingdom). As well as a peasant that was his _enemy_. It made him angry. First at the boy, then himself. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, and damn the boy for making him do so. He does show the boy mercy (what a terrible moment of weakness), and lets him and his tribe live. 

But then, because the universe hates Zuko, the boy enters his life again. 

Zuko duly wonders if maybe a switch was flipped. That suddenly all the years he successfully repressed all the things he thought he just didn’t care about were over. Because he sees the Kyoshi warrior, and there’s _something_ about her. 

He can’t deny the fact that she’s pretty on first glance. But it isn’t something he cares about, not by a long shot. Lots of people were pretty, who gave a fuck? But as he continues to step towards her, the more he feels drawn toward her. And then he looks closely at her, and sees her ocean blue eyes. Maybe he just had a thing for blue eyes. Maybe that’s all it was. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because they look exactly like the water tribe peasant's eyes. 

When she’s kissing him, all too rough, calloused hands grazing his arms, slightly cracked lips pressed against his, ever inquisitive tongue devouring his mouth, he can’t help but _want_. He knows it’s wrong, he knows that it’s awful, he can already feel the guilt regarding it, how he’s failing his country and his father and himself. But he can’t stop, he doesn’t want to. He knows subconsciously it won’t last, which, he reasons, is why he allows it. This is a one time thing, a one time weakness that he will indulge in, then he will be back on his mission, back on his quest to regain his honor, and he will never think about this act again. He will never think about the unnamed Kyoshi warrior again.

Then the curtain falls, and so does the water like rain, and the makeup fades away. And it’s _him._ It’s the goddamn water tribe peasant. 

Zuko feels his heart constrict in his chest. He can’t breathe. All he can feel is the fire in his veins. Yet somehow, even with all the fire consuming him, he still feels like he’s drowning.

There’s a single last breath he takes as the water fills his lungs, and it’s the (absurd? crazy? idiotic? unhonorable?) thought that maybe, somehow, a part of him knew that it was the boy, Sokka, all along. _It was always in the eyes._

He ignores that breath. That idea. That weakness. He would rather drown a thousand times over than give into such a stomach churning notion. 

So, he screams at the boy and he lashes out. He doesn’t show mercy like he had before. He tries to kill him, but misses his shot at him. He wishes he hadn’t.

He lets out a loud grunt as he violently scrubs the makeup off his neck, leaving harsh red marks where the rag has hurt his skin from his aggressive rubbing, but those marks he thinks, are better than the ones left by the blue eyed boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking an ungodly amount of time to post this chapter, work has been kicking my ass. I will definitely try to post the next one sooner. Thanks for reading everyone! :,>
> 
> Kudos are appreciated, as are comments as always! Woooooooooooooooooo!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is gonna be a very long and bumpy ride, so hope you all enjoy. Thank you to my beta reader for helping out and motivating me to write!


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